


The Pronoun in the Ring

by ufp13



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There had been no way around it, she had had to tell him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pronoun in the Ring

He sat in the corner of the boxing ring, sweaty, exhausted after having pushed himself through some rounds against the punching bag. He had wanted to distract himself, take his mind of the devastating news, take his anger out on something rather than someone, something that didn’t break. It hadn’t worked. No matter how hard he had beaten the shit out of the sack, no matter how hard he had tried to concentrate on the matter at hand, his mind had wandered to her, had focused on her. Even now as he sat there, every muscle, every nerve in his body aching, his mind was sharp and refused to let go of her words, replaying them over and over without mercy.

“My cancer’s back.” Softly, yet clear and strong, she had spoken the words that had shattered his universe. It couldn’t be. It. Could. Not. Be. It shouldn’t. Could her Gods really be this cruel? Hadn’t she suffered enough in the past? Hadn’t he suffered enough? His fate so tightly entwined with hers that one suffered with, through the other. She had gotten the pronoun wrong. It wasn’t her cancer anymore, it was theirs.

He had stared at her for some seconds, trying to process what she had said, but his mind didn’t make it past ‘I’m going to lose her again.’ The urge to strangle someone, the anger, the despair had risen in him to the point of blindness, to the point where he didn’t trust himself to not wreak them on her, so he had left, had fled from his quarters directly to the gym, his uniform jacket unbuttoned the moment he entered it.

Nobody had dared ask any question, make any comments. The wrath he oozed was deadly. Mindful of their lives, they had kept their distance, had made themselves scarce one by one until he was alone. Word must have been going around because not even one person had tried to enter the room ever since either. He was grateful for the solitude, it allowed him to shed his façade for a moment, to let his feelings reign freely.

Just as the first tear of frustration started to trickle down his cheek, the hatch was opened. Stubbornly refusing to let anybody see him in this state, he wiped the wet trail away. However, when he heard the sound of walking, the click the intruder made with every step he – no, she – took, he knew that any attempt of concealing his state of mind would be futile. She was the one person who could see past his façade, especially since she had a good premonition of what to expect after his precipitous leaving earlier.

Stepping up behind him, she wrapped her arms wordlessly around his waist through the ropes, leaning her head against his side.

Wordlessness ruled the scene, not silence. For silent they were not; his breathing still heavy, she humming a soothing tune nearly inaudibly but there. With time, his breathing calmed down back to a normal rate, he remained motionless, though, made no attempt to react to her presence, simply absorbed the feeling of her arms around him, of the strength he knew would leave her soon. However, an “I’m sorry” whispered into his tanks spurred him into action. He loosened her embrace, tugging at her hands in indication to get up to him.

“Come here, Laura.”

She slipped out of her shoes and climbed into the ring. A moment later, she found herself reeled into Bill’s arms onto his lap. His arms around her waist, he hugged her to him with a force that almost hurt her.

“Not your fault. Not your fault,” he whispered over and over like a mantra into her hair. Winding her arms around his shoulders, she nuzzled the crook of his neck, silent tears escaping her eyes despite her wish to hold them back. His emotions swept her away, overwhelmed her to the point where she couldn’t suppress her own ones any longer. After he had left her earlier alone in his quarters, she had given in to the frustration, the fear and desperation she had harboured ever since Cottle had diagnosed her illness again. The urge to smash a glass against a wall, to lash out against anything within reach had been almost too great to resist, but she had managed, albeit barely. She knew why he had stormed out, had put distance between them. She sympathised with this feeling, didn’t have to search long for him once she was in any state to follow him and could hope for him to have let off a sufficient amount of steam. Aware that the news of her medical condition would hurt him, she had dreaded telling him. Although it warmed her heart to know that she wasn’t alone this time, wouldn’t have to suffer secretly in silence.

“We’ll beat it. We’ll fight. We’ll win,” he confirmed her thoughts as if he had read them.

“Yes, Bill. I’ll fight.”

He pulled her head back to look into her eyes.

“No, I mean it, Laura. We will fight. You’re not alone. This isn’t you anymore, this is us. I’m in this as well. I want to be there for you.”

Leaning forward, he kissed a tear off her cheek. She framed his face with her hands and gave him a watery smile before pressing her lips to his. When she moved back again, he mirrored her smile, then dragged her down for another kiss. Contrary to the first rather sweet, friendly one full of gratitude, this one was deeper, more passionate, demanding, granting their tongues an active role. Her hands roamed over his torso, tugging at the damp material of his tanks in the need to feel warm skin. He sought the same confirmations of life, sneaking his fingers under her blouse, caressing her back. Just like the kisses, the touches became more heated, fuelled by need, by desire. The blow of lurking death had to be met by a counterblow of celebrating life, of feeling life and love. They had to assure each other that they were still there, still alive, still warm, still feeling.

Not breaking the kiss, Bill shifted their positions until she was flat on her back on the mats, he lying partly next to, partly on her. Even though she was satisfied to have finally been successful in her quest to get his tanks out of his pants, the urgency to feel his skin against hers hadn’t decreased. She wanted it all. She wanted it now. Bill didn’t fared much better. He had managed to unbutton her blouse and trousers, but they were still in the way for what he had in mind, for what his body longed for. To rid herself, them, of the misery, Laura pushed Bill away, sat up and made short work of her blouse and bra. Bill who had been a bit confused by her action at first followed suit, stripping his tanks. Once he had accomplished this task, Laura jumped him. Bare chest to bare chest, they rolled over the ground. In the end, he came to lie on her again. Kissing her lips goodbye, his mouth headed south over her jaw, collarbones to her breasts, host to her destructive, deadly foe. He caressed, fondled, stroked the soft flesh with his fingers, lips and tongue, worshipped it, wishing he could love all malignance out of it.

As much as he wanted this form of treatment to work, he knew it wouldn’t, at least not directly this way. He hoped, however, that his love would help her through what lay ahead of her, of them. He was under no illusion that the fight was hers when it came down to it, not hers alone but mainly hers. He could only give her a reason to fight and help her as much as he could, as much as she would let him. His major fear was her rejecting him, shutting him out. At the moment, this didn’t appear possible as she pressed further into his touch, but with her you never knew. This woman had surprised him on more than one occasion, and not always in a positive way. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be the case this time, because it would most likely destroy him. For now though, she was more than willing to let him in; she downright demanded it with a frustrated moan of his name as one of his hands crept into her pants. Grinning, he closed his lips around a nipple, suckling it while he gently rubbed her through her panties. Although he could relate and teasing her meant torturing himself, he didn’t want to stop feasting on her body just yet. Her juices dampening her panties heightened his arousal, made his erection throb in longing to be surrounded by that wetness.

Her body responded fiercely to his ministrations, and seeing her so full of life delighted him so much that he didn’t ever want it to end. Laura was torn between giving in to his touch, letting him have his way with her, and urging him to take them to the next stage that required less clothing and more – especially more intimate – contact of skin. When he pushed the crotch of her panties aside and dipped a digit into her, her body choose for her mind, surrendering to the pleasure Bill evoked within it. He continued to stimulate her, ignoring his own need that became more pressing within the minute, the sight and sounds of her serving as potential aphrodisiac. His longer abstinence and desire for her didn’t help matters at all.

Moaning his name, she neared orgasmic bliss a lot faster than she had expected. If the begging note her tone held was related to her wish to reach climax or the need to be filled by him she didn’t know herself. Bill opted for the former, pushing his finger deeper into her, rubbing her inner flesh. When he added pressure to her clitoris, she lost it. Vocalising her enjoyment incoherently, she writhed beneath his hands. The sight bewitched him. Panting heavily, eyes half closed, clouded with lust, lips parted slightly, she was a picture of sensuality.

As she opened her eyes and found Bill staring at her dreamingly, a smile formed on her face. The love his eyes radiated filled her with happiness. Had ever a man harboured such deep feelings for her before? She couldn’t think of one instant she had found a look like that directed at her. Kind of pathetic, wasn’t it? She had to become this old to find love of the honest, deep kind. However, there wasn’t time for reminiscing, not now, probably never. Life was too short, too precious for navel gazing. And why should she when she had a wonderful, caring even though stubborn and sometimes frustrating man by her side? She reached out to pull him down for a kiss, and he came without hesitation, deepening the connection instantly. Their tongues danced lazily around each other, with each other. Meanwhile, Laura sought out his erection, squeezing the hard flash through his pants before opening his belt and fastener. Groaning loudly, Bill broke the kiss.

Encouraged, fuelled by his obvious joy, she reached into his trousers, but didn’t get far before Bill grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. Confused, she looked at him. He simply shook his head, got up and shed his remaining clothes. A grin replacing her confusion, she followed suit, never taking her eyes off him, though.

Beauty lay in the eye of the beholder, and common, average beauty wasn’t what she sought, wasn’t what she needed. If she had, she wouldn’t be here like this for Bill didn’t fit it with all his edges, marks of battle and age. Those marks made him who he was, defined him, and it was him she loved. It was this form that sheltered a vulnerable heart, a heart that loved her. If it wasn’t for his uniform lots of women wouldn’t give him a second look, just like she hadn’t done, hadn’t she been forced to do so. And for once, she was thankful for what fate had thrown at her. The hungry, lustful twinkle in his eyes as they swept over her naked form left her giggly. It had been far too long since she had really been carefree, had felt desired. The joy bubbling within her needed an outlet before she exploded from it. Closing the distance between them with hurried, bouncy steps, Laura threw herself into Bill’s arms. Unprepared for such an attack, Bill stumbled back slightly into the ropes.

“Hey,” he laughed, receiving only another giggle in answer.

His arms encircled her waist, holding her to him as he stepped further into the ring again. Pulling her with him, he sank back to the ground, her naked form coming to rest on his. By then, her giggles had subsided and she launched her lips onto his. When her tongue tasted him, her hips rotated against his, extracting moan after moan from him until he grabbed her buttocks hard to still her movement. He was nearing the edge, and this whole encounter would be over very soon before it had even begun if she didn’t grant him a break. After dragging her skin over his erection one more time, she halted her motion.

“Getting uncomfortable, Admiral?”

“I’ll show you uncomfortable,” he growled.

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I already know the brig,” she smirked.

That woman! Rolling them over and spreading her legs further in the motion, he nudged her entrance with his member. Her laugh changed into a moan instantly. Lifting her hips in invitation, she asked him to join them, to extend their emotional connection to the next, to the physical level. Savouringly slow, Bill slid his cock into her wetness inch by inch. Her long untouched tissues clenched around the welcome intruder.

“Gods, yesss,” she moaned when he finally hit bottom.

With her feet, she caressed his legs as they lay still, rejoicing in the feeling of oneness. Bill reciprocated by tenderly stroking a breast, the breast, the reason for their being here for the better and the worse. Laura couldn’t suppress the tears which involuntarily formed themselves in her eyes upon the love Bill showed for what would destroy them both, for what he should and surely did hate. Smiling, he kissed them away.

“It’s beautiful, just like the rest of you. And we’ll win the fight, love.”

The determination with which he spoke left no room for contradiction, it bordered on denial, robbing her of the ability to speak. So she just nodded and bucked her pelvis to distract herself, them, from the darkness that had brought them here in the first place. Bill understood, had seen the sorrow creeping into her eyes, and pulled out of her only to penetrate her anew a moment later, an unhurried pace that Laura met with a counter rhythm of her own.

The sound of colliding bodies, of slickness and of pleasure echoed from the walls of the room that had never witnessed this kind of action before. Granted, copulating couples weren’t foreign to it, but those encounters didn’t differ much from the usual fighting that went on. Laura and Bill, however, had no intention of letting anything but love guide them, dominate the act. Although they picked up speed, their eyes kept the looks of tenderness, assurance and love.

The occasional clenching and relaxing of her inner walls around his erection drove him wild, pushing him forcefully nearer and nearer to the edge. Not wanting to fly alone, he changed the angle slightly to rub her clitoris with every thrust. Sensitive as her flesh was, it didn’t take much for her to dive into the orgasmic waves, pulling Bill with her.

Spent, he collapsed onto her but rolled off some moments later, mindful of his dead weight. Naked, they lay side by side, fingers of one hand entwined, panting, staring at the ceiling. Letting the solitude of the moment wash over themselves, they remained silent for some time, calming their bodies. Then Bill pressed her hand and turned his head toward her. Following suit, Laura looked him in the eyes.

“We will live,” he mouthed.

“Yes, we will.”

= End =


End file.
